


What Went Wrong This Time?

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-19
Updated: 2006-05-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Crossover; Enterprise/Farscape with Trip-centric ENT emphasis. Story temporarily suspended.





	1. Clarification

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: **Disclaimer**  
All rights, and some of the lefts, belong to both Paramount and Jim Henson Creations. I donâ€™t own any characters, ships or puppets. Believe me, if I did, Iâ€™d be too preoccupied with Trip and Crichton to do much writing.  


* * *

_(If youâ€™re familiar with Farscape, you need not read this)_

 

This section is for those readers who are not familiar with the Farscape universe, yet are interested in reading the story. Itâ€™s just small descriptions of important characters and themes from the show- not absolutely necessary, but probably useful in getting a better understanding of the story.

**Farscape Universe/Premise**

Commander John Crichton was catapulted into the nether regions of the universe while test piloting a new ship for the IASA (NASA like) sometime in our present time. Not able to get home, but searching for a wormhole to do so, he lives amongst aliens on a living ship. The Peace Keepers (made of the race- Sebacean) are very humanoid, and pretty much rule the universe with a strong arm. They are also hunting down Crichton and his crewmates- notably because they are all considered criminals for one matter or another. This story is also notably ignoring the fact that Crichton makes comments concerning Star Trek and Captain Kirk. As far as this story is concerned, heâ€™s never heard of the Federation.

**Characters**

**John Crichton:** Human, but always mistaken for a Sebacean. 

**Aeryn Sun:** Pronounced â€˜Soonâ€™. A Sebacean, and used to be a Peace Keeper, but is now considered an enemy.

**Zhaan:** Delvian priestess. 

**Dargo:** Luxan, which is a race similar to Klingons.

**Chianna:** Nebari. Good thief with grey skin.

**Rygel:** Two foot Hynerian who used to be a Dominar (canâ€™t remember name of planet). He is actually a puppet on the show and moves about on a hovering chair.

**Pilot:** A species who grows to be attached to the ship (Moya). He has several arms and can not leave the ship. He is also the only one who can speak directly with Moya for their minds, and bodies, are linked. Also another puppet.

**Moya:** Leviathan. An extremely large naturally born biomechanical ship. They are wrangled by the Peace Keepers to be used for their own purposes. Moya was hijacked by Dargo, Rygel and Zhaan and is now considered free.


	2. Prolouge

â€œIâ€™m detecting a large energy signature accumulating off our port bow,â€ announced Sub-Commander Tâ€™Pol.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, the shipâ€™s security officer, bowed his head slightly with a frown. â€œIâ€™d say large is an understatement. I believe massive is more appropriate.â€

Captain Jonathon Archer rose from his seat to step behind the helm position. He rested a hand on Ensign Mayweatherâ€™s shoulder and stared at the eruption on the view screen. Energy crackled and burst across the field of view, discharging random streaks of white lightening reminiscent of storms off the coast of Florida. But in this case the electricity was contained- albeit only slightly.

â€œI suggest we altar our position, Captain,â€ warned Tâ€™Pol.

Archer thinned his lips as he turned to his science officer. â€œDo we know what this is? Do you recognise anything about this?â€ Tâ€™Pol shook her head. â€œThen letâ€™s move back, Travis.â€ Archer gave the pilotâ€™s shoulder a squeeze before stepping back to his proper seat center bridge.

_Enterprise_ took harbour several hundred kilometres back and idled her engines. The energy cracked more brilliantly, sending the shipâ€™s internal systems into a frenzy of chaos. Archer spun, watching helplessly as consoles flashed erratically, overhead lights flickered like a twentieth century disco, and alarms echoed and bounced off the enclosed space of the bridge. Crew members scrambled to contain the chaos, but with semi-futile efforts.

Then abruptly the system alarms silenced, cutting off Tâ€™Polâ€™s next warning mid-sentence. â€œâ€¦accelerating greatly!â€ The Vulcan sighed as her voice belted out across the bridge needlessly. â€œWe should retreat further.â€

Archer didnâ€™t have to re-iterate the suggestion; Mayweatherâ€™s awareness was keen when it came to the shipâ€™s proximity to external objects- especially ones barrelling toward them at nearly warp speeds. Mayweather quickly reversed the ship, backing off another several hundred kilometres.

Idling once again, Archer rose and surveyed the bridge. All was silent; alarms were quashed, lights were back to normal parameters, and consoles performed their designated functions.

On screen the energy suddenly dissipated to mere streaks here and there; bright flashes of white caressing the sleek lines of a structure now before them. Malcolm had been correct; it was not just large it was massive. And beautiful.

A giant, brown-green tear drop with two tendrils swooping back from itâ€™s apex to re-attach at its base, hung in space before _Enterprise_. Slowly it adjusted its trajectory, spinning on itâ€™s axis to come into perspective with the Federation ship. Now Archer could see what resembled two large opal eyes, staring back at him with haunting indignation. He looked at his communication officer, Hoshi Sato, with a nod.

The young ensign picked at her console, one hand pressing the listening device further into her ear in order to achieve better clarity. After a moment she looked up with a frown. â€œIâ€™m not sure what Iâ€™m hearing, Captain.â€ She pushed a few more buttons, listened quietly a moment more. â€œActually, Iâ€™m not sure that what weâ€™re looking at is a ship.â€

Before Archer had a chance to inquest further, Tâ€™Pol responded. â€œIt is not a ship, ensign. The structure before us is a creature. And no, not one in which Iâ€™m familiar with.â€

â€œShall I raise weapons, Captain?â€ asked Malcolm, his fingers hovering anxiously over his tactical console.

But Archer waved him off. â€œHow â€™bout you, Travis? Seen anything like this before?â€

There was an audible swallow from the ensign before he responded. â€œBelieve me, captain, Iâ€™d certainly remember something like this.â€

Archer smiled briefly. â€œIâ€™ll take that as a no, ensign.â€ He turned to Hoshi, still concentrating on communications. â€œAny luck?â€

She glanced up in mild surprise. â€œI think itâ€™s trying to communicate, but it doesnâ€™t seem to know how. Do you want to try sending a hail, sir?â€

â€œIâ€™m not detecting any weapon signatures, Captain. So unless you want to spend eternity in a stare-off, Iâ€˜d suggest making contact before it decides to power up,â€ offered Malcolm.

Archer hadnâ€™t needed the comment, but took his cue none-the-less. With a flick of his wrist he indicated to Hoshi to open all hailing frequencies. But before he had a chance to record his message a voice broke over the com- loud, and recognizably frustrated. 

â€œâ€¦did you send the donâ€™t shoot us weâ€™re pathetic transmission yet?!â€

Archer frowned, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he turned to Malcolm. â€œIâ€™ll take that as friendly gesture,â€ he said. â€œI think.â€


	3. Part One

After hearing the peculiar remark from the other ship, Captain Archer waited patiently for further communications. But it appeared they werenâ€™t paying any attention to the Starfleet vessel. All that came over the speakers were garbled voices of alien tongues tattered with snippets of distinctive English.

One voice was deep and resembled a low growl. Another was higher pitched and resembled that of a female. A third voice, pretentious and obstinate, was slowly gaining momentum as the alien belonging to it fought for his voice in the apparent din of confusion. There were other voices, but they were harder to filter. But one thing was for certain- everyone seemed to be frustrated.

Archer, as with the rest of his bridge crew, tried to remain composed as they listened to the onslaught of shouts and verbal chaos. And when one of the voices, the only one recognized by the universal translator, screamed an obstinate â€˜shut the hell up!â€™, Archer could not contain himself any longer. He let out a laugh, but quickly covered his mouth in a diplomatic fashion.

Composed, he turned to Hoshi Sato. â€œCan we get a visual?â€

It took several moments for the communications officer to match frequencies with the great creature/ship before them, and when she did the front screen filled with the blue face of a beautiful bald alien. Behind her, oblivious to the visual communiquÃ©, were five aliens arguing with each other. Archer drew in a sharp breath then settled on the mesmerizing, almost calming expression of the blue woman smiling back at him. â€œGreetings. My name is Captain Jonathon Archer of the Starfleet vessel, _Enterprise.â€_

The bridge waited with baited anticipation to hear the response from the enigmatic blue alien. But for a comprehensive reply they would have to wait, for the greeting from the alien- although calm, was too foreign for the universal translator to interpret.

â€œHoshi?â€ Archer asked, keeping one eye on the screen as he turned to the ensign.

â€œIâ€™m trying, sir,â€ she replied. â€œI need her to keep talking.â€

â€œKeep at it,â€ ordered Archer. Then he turned to his science officer. â€œTâ€™Pol, any idea what weâ€™re looking at now?â€

The Vulcan raised her eyes from her hooded view port with a sceptical eyebrow raised. â€œIâ€™m detecting one human and seven other species of unknown origin- all but one currently on their bridge.â€

â€œSeven?â€ voiced Malcolm Reed from across the bridge. â€œI only see five, aside from the one speaking.â€ He leaned forward, staring intensely at the screen. â€œAnd it appears there are two humans, not just one.â€

Tâ€™Pol sat up stiffly in her chair. â€œSensors indicate only one human presence on board, and one of the life forms is the ship itself. As I said earlier, the ship is alive. I am uncertain where the other life form is located. Our sensors are having difficulty penetrating their shipâ€˜s hull. Or to be more precise, itâ€™s exoskeleton.â€

Archer glanced at her. â€œShields?â€

â€œNone that Iâ€™ve detected,â€ replied Tâ€™Pol. â€œThis is a new species, and it will take time to adjust to their technology.â€

Archer drew in a deep breath, stared at the blue woman still speaking gibberish. Behind her, the crew still seemed oblivious as they continued their argument. â€œLetâ€™s keep at this. I donâ€™t want to lose this first contact, but I also donâ€™t want to scare â€˜em off, so be cautious.â€

He returned to his seat as the bridge crew threw themselves into the task at hand. Drumming his fingers on the arm rest, he watched the scene unfolding before him. It was almost comical watching this blue womanâ€™s crew fight in the background, verbally sparing with the occasional flailing of arms. And Archer suddenly felt the need to share this with the one person on board who would appreciate it the most. With a tap of his finger he opened the com to main engineering. â€œTrip? You got a moment?â€

â€œI was just wonderinâ€™ when you were gonna call,â€ came back the voice of Commander Trip Tucker. â€œIâ€™m on my way, capâ€™n.â€

* * *

â€œWell, if it walks like a Peace Keeper and talks like a Peace Keeper, Iâ€™m guessing it is a Peace Keeper,â€ strained the voice of Commander John Crichton. 

â€œThat ship is nothing like any Peace Keeper ship Iâ€™ve ever seen!â€ responded Aeryn Sun, her pointed features growing even sharper.

On board the Leviathan, Moya, a heated argument concerning the occupancy of the strange vessel was steadily growing. Crichton and the Nebari, Chiana, seemed to believe that what lay ahead was that of a new Peace Keeper ship. But Dargo, the large Luxan warrior, and Aeryn Sun of Peace Keeper heritage believed otherwise- despite what their eyes and ears were telling them. And Rygel, the two foot Hynerian, was sitting on the proverbial fence; gauging his decision on which scenario would be more profitable. 

And unable to form any sort of reason was Zhaan, the blue Delvian woman draped in robes. She shook her head and called to Pilot to open a channel of communication on the clam shell. Taking a few steps towards the front of the command center, Zhaan addressed the awaiting face of the Sebacean in strange clothes.

â€œWe are but a cargo vessel seeking travel through this space. We mean no harm. Please believe us,â€ she said towards the clam shell. 

â€œGreetings. My name is Captain Jonathon Archer of the Starfleet vessel, _Enterprise._ â€

Zhaan frowned. She looked around the command center of the strange ship and did not recognize anything. If it was a Peace Keeper vessel, it was entirely new, and entirely sterile. The craft was much smaller than most Peace Keeper ships, and more brilliantly lit with clean lines and sharp contrasts. â€œYou are not Peace Keepers, are you?â€ she finally asked. 

But the response was that of misunderstanding. The man whom she was speaking with apparently did not comprehend her. Zhaan found this puzzling for a Sebacean. Most aliens were implanted at birth with a translation chip; he should not have any problems understanding Delvian. But yet he did.

â€œPilot? Do you detect any weapons onboard this ship?â€ she asked, tilting her head slightly in order to pique the internal com.

â€œMoya detects weapons, but they are not powered up,â€ replied the pensive voice of the Leviathanâ€™s pilot. â€œBut she is getting nervous, as am I.â€

Zhaan thinned her lips, glanced at the other ship. â€œI donâ€™t believe these are Peace Keepers, Pilot. In fact, they almost appear friendly, so I need not think you, nor Moya, should start getting worried. I am attempting to communicate with them nowâ€¦â€ she threw a look over her shoulder at her arguing crewmates. â€œIf only I could have a little peace and quiet.â€

A voice from the strange ship broke her conversation with Pilot. Zhaan turned back to the screen to listen, but this time it was the voice of a female asking for her to keep speaking so she could learn their language. The strange woman looked Sebacean, only slightly darker and with somewhat exotic eyes. Zhaan liked the look of this woman and smiled. But like the man before, she was not able to grasp the Delvian language- although she did appear to be trying.

Zhaan kept at it, speaking peaceful words to the exotic woman until finally it seemed like a few words were getting through. Clasping her hands before her face, Zhaan relished the progress. This seemed to coax the woman into trying full sentences, so Zhaan appeased her with more words, and more sentiments of spiritual peace.

As this continued, Crichton, Aeryn, Dargo, Chiana- and the small Hynerian, Rygel, began to gravitate towards Zhaan. With tilted heads and frowns, the crew found themselves drawn to the budding conversation- leaving their previous argument gathering dust on the floor.

â€œHow come she canâ€™t understand you?â€

â€œWho the frell are they?â€

â€œQuack. Quack. Quackâ€¦â€

Zhaan ignored them all and concentrated on the woman on the screen.

* * *

Trip Tucker arrived on the bridge and instantly found himself mesmerized by the blue woman. And after being filled in on what he had missed, he found himself even more intrigued. â€œDid someone just quack like a duck?â€ he asked, his ears picking out the human voice in the background.

Archer shrugged a shoulder. â€œWeâ€™re a little confused about that right now,â€ he replied. â€œBut we know that one of them is human, only Hoshi canâ€™t seem to understand the blue woman yet, so she hasnâ€™t been able to get the human to speak directly to us.â€

Trip nodded at the screen, indicating the young human male dressed in tight leather. â€œHe looks to me like he doesnâ€™t want anything to do with us,â€ he said. â€œOr that little goblin lookinâ€™ guy in the hover chair either.â€ He watched as the human swatted the small alien in the back of the head. 

â€œHer name is Zhaan,â€ spat Hoshi. She turned to her captain with a satisfied grin. â€œSheâ€™s Delvian.â€

â€œWe have a complete translation now?â€ Archer asked.

Hoshi wavered a hand. â€œFor the most part, yes. But thereâ€™s still a few kinks the UT has to work out.â€

Archer nodded and turned a smiling face to the screen. â€œHello, Zhaan. Iâ€™m Captain Jonathon Archer. Itâ€™s a pleasure to meet you.â€

The Delvian bowed her head, ran her soft blue hands over her face and head in a sign of peaceful greetings. â€œHello, Captain Jonathon Archer. It is also a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your linguist has informed me that you are not Sebacean, is this true? You are not Peace Keepers?â€

Archer shared a quizzical look with his bridge crew before responding. â€œSebacean, noâ€¦â€

â€œYeah, right!â€ yelled the human male from the alien ship. â€œAnd Iâ€™m Han Solo, sheâ€™s Princess Leia, heâ€™s Chewbacca, and the little runt to my left is Yoda. Weâ€™re on course to destroy the Death Star. Donâ€™t suppose youâ€™ve seen one around here, have ya?â€

Trip smiled, crossed his arms over his chest. â€œNot recently, young Jedi. But if you invoke the force Iâ€™m sure youâ€˜ll find it,â€ he replied in good humour.

â€œYou must forgive him,â€ interrupted Zhaan. â€œHis species is highly akin to mistrust. In time you will learn to appreciate his sense of sarcasm as we all have.â€

Trip shared a confused look with his captain. â€œHis species?â€

Zhaan smiled graciously. â€œHe is from a planet unknown to this part of the universe. He is called a human, from a planet called Earth.â€

Now it was Captain Archerâ€™s time to raise a sceptical eyebrow. â€œYouâ€™re kidding, right?â€

* * *

â€œDid he just say use the force? He did, didnâ€™t he?!â€ John Crichton turned to face Aeryn Sun- standing defiantly beside him with her arms braced across her chest. â€œIâ€™m not hearing things this time; he called me a young Jedi.â€

The reformed Peace Keeper scowled, biting back the urge to smack the ranting lunatic. But she knew that act alone could not stop the annoyingly handsome human when he was on one of his kicks. â€œShut up, Crichton!â€ she yelled. But that could.

She waited till he closed his mouth before addressing the clam shell. â€œSeeing how youâ€™re the first people weâ€™ve come across who could understand Crichtonâ€™s absurd metaphors, Iâ€™m going to assume youâ€™re human as well?â€

â€œThatâ€™s correct,â€ replied the tall, strong man in the light purple uniform. â€œIâ€™m Captain Archer. This is my chief engineer, Commander Tucker,â€ he finished, indicating the blonde officer beside him.

â€œPleased to meet cha.â€

Aeryn smiled cynically, her internal alarms arousing the mistrust inside her. She had known Commander John Crichton for nearly two cycles, and he had never let her forget that humans were not only nonexistent in this region of space; they werenâ€™t even remotely close to achieving extended deep space exploration. In the pit of Aerynâ€™s stomach a knot formed. Something was wrong, definitely wrong.

She turned to Crichton- who was pinching himself feverishly, then slowly levelled her gaze back on Captain Archer. â€œWho are youâ€¦ really? What makes you think Iâ€™ll believe humans have travelled this far in such a short time?â€

The two men on the clam shell shared a look before the captain readdressed her. â€œWeâ€™re from Earth, in the Sol system. And actually, itâ€™s not that far from our current location- relatively speaking in the grand scheme of things.â€ He paused, pointed an arm to a young, angular woman sitting off to the side of his command center. â€œSheâ€™s not human though. My science officer, Sub-Commander Tâ€™Pol, is a Vulcan.â€

Aeryn flicked her eyes briefly toward the woman. â€œIâ€™ve never heard of the Vulcanâ€™s,â€ she replied in a clipped tone. Then she leaned forward, braced her hands on the console before her. â€œAnd why is it I donâ€™t believe a single word youâ€™re frelling telling me?â€

â€œPerhaps your human friend-â€ Archer paused expectantly, waiting for a name.

â€œCrichton,â€ appeased Aeryn, hesitantly.

Archer nodded a thank you. â€œCrichton, could explain things for you?â€

Aeryn fixed her glare on Captain Archer, but directed her question towards Crichton. â€œJohn, what do you think of all this?â€

â€œDo you have pizza? Or, should I be so bold as to ask, beer?â€ asked Crichton, his eyes glazed over with anticipation.

Aeryn back handed him on the arm. â€œWhat the frell is the matter with you?â€ she seethed between clenched teeth.

Crichton leaned close enough for only her to hear. â€œActually, Iâ€™m thinking this is just one of my weird hallucinations, but as long as they have pizza and beer, Iâ€™m willing to play along for awhile.â€

Aeryn, who knew definitively that this was not a hallucination, returned her attention to the matter at hand with a grain of salt. â€œMy esteemed colleague here would really like to know if you have any pizza or beer youâ€™re willing to trade?â€

The captain smiled broadly. â€œOf course. And on that note, Iâ€™d like to extend an invitation to join my senior staff and me for dinner. We can send a shuttle overâ€¦â€

â€œThatâ€™s all right,â€ interjected Aeryn. â€œWe have our own method of transportation. But let me warn you, Iâ€™m only doing this as a favour to my salivating friend here. And I plan on coming armed, as you humans say, to the teeth.â€

â€œThatâ€™s not necessary,â€ replied Archer, a hint of hesitation in his voice. â€œWeâ€™d prefer to keep this on a friendly level.â€

Aeryn arched a threatening eyebrow. â€œIt wasnâ€™t an option,â€ she stated. â€œWeâ€™ll dock in twenty microts. And rest assured, Iâ€™m bringing the Luxan with me.â€


	4. Part 2

This was not an ordinary first contact, if one could ever really be called that. With this new acquaintance came a very deep sense of mystery. Archer wanted to be excited about meeting the six individuals docking on his ship, but an annoying sense of trouble kept his emotions from completely surfacing. But it wasnâ€™t the enigmatic Delvian, the perturbed Sebacean, or the threat of a Luxan coming on board that caused Archer to feel unsettled, but rather it was the human presence amongst them that made him take an uneasy breath.

What was a human doing this far from Earth? How did he know these aliens? And most importantly, why did he find it just as surprising to find humans out this far?

â€œWhat do ya think she meant by bringing a Luxan?â€ asked Trip, his southern drawl thick as he leaned close to his captain. He stood next to him and Malcolm at the docking port awaiting their guestâ€™s arrival.

Archer clasped his hands behind his back, tilted his head. â€œIâ€™m assuming itâ€™s a species, Trip.â€

â€œAssuminâ€™ or hopinâ€™, sir?â€ Trip inquired with a boyish grin.

â€œAre you sure you donâ€™t want me to break out the phase pistols, captain?â€ asked Reed. â€œWe donâ€™t know what these people are like. It might be a good idea, sir.â€

Archer shook his head, then turned as the docking door slid open. On the other side stood five individuals; three with weapons drawn and a suspicious glint in their eyes. And behind them was the smallest alien, hobbit like and sitting proudly in a hovering chair. â€œWelcome,â€ Archer greeted hesitantly.

â€œWe come in peace,â€ placated Trip, gesturing their lack of weapons with his palms bared. 

Slowly, the guests lowered their weapons, and the tall, black haired woman stepped forward. â€œIâ€™m Aeryn Sun,â€ she said with a nod of her head. â€œThis isâ€¦â€

The human male stepped forward offering his hand in salutation. â€œI can speak for myself, Princess Leia,â€ he said over his shoulder as he reached to shake the captainâ€™s hand. â€œIâ€™m Commander John Crichton from the IASA.â€

Archer accepted the hand with a smile. â€œPleasure to meet you, Commander. This is my Commander, Trip Tucker. Heâ€™s my chief engineer.â€

Trip and Crichton shook hands, but the latter kept his attention trained on the captain. â€œWhat section of the IASA are you from? I had noâ€¦ When didâ€¦ Iâ€™m sorry. This is just all too _Twilight Zone_ for me. You are from the IASA, arenâ€™t you?â€

â€œIâ€™m afraid not,â€ replied Archer. â€œActually, Iâ€™ve never heard of the IASA. Weâ€™re with Starfleet.â€

There was a slight change in Crichtonâ€™s demeanour. He pulled back, eyeing them sceptically. â€œYou did say you were from Earth right? This is an Earth vessel right? Youâ€™re not Peace Keepers? Youâ€™re human, and you know Darth Vader is just a character from a movie right?â€

Archer smiled. â€œThat would be a yes to all of the above.â€

Crichton slumped his shoulders like a disappointed child. â€œI donâ€™t suppose you can tell me the date, can you?â€

â€œThe star date is 2152,â€ replied Archer. 

â€œHoly frell!â€ Crichton cried, clasping his hands to the side of his head. 

â€œI knew that wormhole was unstable,â€ Aeryn said quietly.

â€œI told you,â€ added the hovering alien in a haughty voice. â€œWhen will you people learn to stop listening to that gangly, pale idiot.â€

* * *

The year was 2152; more than a slight surprise for Moyaâ€˜s crew. As Trip was learning, their guests had not only crossed thousands of light years, they had travelled hundreds of years into the future as well. And although now close to his home, which heâ€™d been trying to find for over two years, Trip could tell that Crichton was not altogether comfortable about being here. There was an aura of unease about John Crichton, which Trip sensed was very deep rooted.

Sitting together at a table in the mess hall as the others mingled, Trip watched Crichton devour a whole pizza- pausing only to wash it down with a long drink of cold beer. â€œSo, Moya, is the name of your ship?â€ asked Trip.

â€œSheâ€™s not really a ship so to speak, she's a Leviathan,â€ corrected Crichton, his mouth working around the last bite. â€œBut don't worry about it, _Iâ€™m_ still getting used to travelling on board a living creature. You tend to forget that those walls and floors you pass through every day actually belong to someone, not something.â€

â€œAnd this starburst you were tellinâ€™ me about?â€

â€œKinda like that warp drive you were telling me about,â€ replied Crichton, followed by a deep throated burp. â€œSorry â€˜bout that,â€ he continued. â€œBeen awhile since Iâ€™ve eaten so well. Weâ€™re lucky if our food cubes arenâ€™t stale. What was I saying? Oh right, Moya can starburst- jump to warp as you called it, but only for very short periods of time. We donâ€™t carry weapons, so itâ€™s our only form of defence. And usually, we don't have any idea where we're gonna pop out.â€

Tripâ€˜s eyebrows raised, his mouth dropped slightly. A ship without weapons seemed unfathomable. It seemed ridiculous. It seemed dangerous. â€œOur tactical officer would get a kick outta hearing about that,â€ he finally said. â€œBut what Iâ€™d really get a kick out of, is taking a peek at your Leviathanâ€™s engines.â€ He paused, furrowed his brow. â€œDoes it even have an engine?â€

Crichton smiled. â€œSort of,â€ he said. â€œAnd as soon as I take a long hot shower, and oh my god, brush my teeth with a real toothbrush, Iâ€™ll give you the grand tour- Commander to Commander.â€

â€œIâ€™m gonna hold you to that,â€ smiled Trip. â€œBut Iâ€™ve also got a few things I have to attend to first. When you guys came outta that starburst, it sure as hell did quite a job on our sensors. And my capâ€™n will throw me out the nearest airlock if I donâ€™t get them back up to specs before havinâ€™ a little fun.â€

â€œBusiness before pleasure,â€ stated Crichton with a shake of his head. â€œSomething I donâ€™t miss about this side of the universe.â€

â€œYouâ€™ll have to tell me about it some time,â€ replied Trip, rising from the table. â€œBut Iâ€™ll have to catch up with ya later.â€

* * *

With most of the repairs completed, Trip had finally retreated to his quarters just past 0100hrs. Unable to sleep due to all the activity onboard _Enterprise_ , he stood by his window staring at the great Leviathan. â€œI wonder if it sleeps?â€ he asked aloud. 

It was the most remarkable thing Trip had ever seen. And the aliens that came with it were just as intriguing. As suspected, certain members of _Enterprise_ had found a recognizable counterpart amongst Moya's crew. Malcolm had found the extremely large Luxan with the reddish tint to his skin, and warrior mentality, quite appealing. And the blue Delvian had found T'Pol's species utterly fascinating. Trip saw the pairing as quite entertaining; for as Zhaan followed T'Pol around asking questions, it was obvious T'Pol was not comfortable with the situation. As for Hoshi and Travis, they corned the grey Nebari, Chiana, and Aeryn, into telling them all about their species and languages. The Hynerian, Dominar Rygel, seemed more content to roam about the mess in search of food rather than speak to any of the crew. 

Trip smiled at the memory of these first contacts, pleased that he had been able to make a connection with the human, John Crichton. It was nice to meet new species, but sometimes being with your own- and learning from _them,_ was a comfortable reminder of home. He took a deep breath and turned away from the window. 

He took a seat at his computer and pulled up a schematic of _Enterprise._ He knew every inch of his ship, and how each component fit together and how to repair them if they ever broke down. But the schematic wasnâ€™t for him, it was for Crichton. Reaching for an extra PADD, Trip began downloading the data. He would have to ask his captain before giving it to the commander, but he didnâ€™t foresee any problems. It wasnâ€™t as if he was giving the information to another species; he was giving it to another human- albeit one from another time.

Maybe this was going to be a problem after all? He paused the download, staring at the screen in contemplation. His eyes were drawn to the spinning Starfleet icon in the upper right corner. It had been almost a full minute before Trip noticed something wasnâ€™t right- the colours were off. He blinked, refocused, then stared at the icon again.

The colours were still different from what he knew and recognized. He changed screens, pulling up ten different files before coming to the conclusion that the icons were all the same- they were all wrong.

In calm frustration, Trip rose from his desk and began searching out any Starfleet icons in his quarters. These, as it turned out, were the way they were supposed to be; they were correct. The idea that Starfleet had just randomy changed their insignia colours did not bode well with Trip. To change them was one thing, but to do so without a warning or memo was another. Surely Admiral Forrest would have said something. 

Returning to his computer, he brought up the official Starfleet Command List. Again the colours were wrong, so he quickly skimmed the staff listing. He ran through the names until one stood out. Or more to the point, did not stand out. At the very top of the list, emblazed in gold letters was not the name Forrest. Instead, it readâ€¦

Admiral Phillip Cortez.

* * *

Unhappy about being called from their beds in the middle of the night, the senior staff convened in the alcove to the rear of the bridge. Tripâ€™s news had awoken several reservations in the crew. And now, as they stood around the table figuring out what was going on, and more importantly, what they were going to do about it, further problems were presenting themselves.

â€œIt appears our guests are not simply from another time, Captain. They are from an alternate timeline altogether,â€ informed Tâ€™Pol. â€œAnd since the Vulcan High Command does not believe time travel is plausible, I find myself limited. The crew of Moya do not understand how they travelled into the future, so it would be reasonable to assume they would not know how they could travel into another universe. Therefore, I have no principle leads in which to initiate my research.â€

â€œOf course they could be lying,â€ suggested Archer.

â€œI donâ€™t believe so,â€ replied Tâ€™Pol.

â€œNeither do I, capâ€™n,â€ added Trip. â€œI spent a lot of time with Commander Crichton, and a lot of what he said about Earth seemed right on the money. I realize no one is questioning his origin, but he was very consistent about his Earth and what year it was when he left. And his story seems reasonable. I just canâ€™t see him lyinâ€™. It just wouldn't any make sense.â€

Archer let out a slow breath. â€œI donâ€™t think theyâ€™re lying either,â€ he replied. â€œI was just throwing the idea out there. Honestly, that Leviathan out there is kind of a giant red flag indicating theyâ€™re telling the truth. What we need to know, is what are the repercussions of all this? What happens when two universes collide?â€

â€œI believe the answer youâ€™re looking for is entropy, Captain,â€ responded Tâ€™Pol.

â€œEntropy!â€ repeated Hoshi. â€œAs in the disorder of the universe?â€

â€œThat is correct, Ensign,â€ nodded Tâ€™Pol. â€œAlthough only hypothetical, the collision of two universes causes both to cancel each out, collectively causing the complete disorder of one or both universes. In this case, since it is our universe that is being theoretically invaded, it is most likely our universe that will undergo this transgression.â€

â€œYou say that so impassively, Sub-Commander,â€ replied Hoshi. â€œYou do realize what youâ€™re saying, donâ€™t you? That we could be destroying the entire universe right now?â€

â€œWell, if that doesnâ€™t break down the Vulcan stoicism, nothing will,â€ sighed Trip.

â€œAll right, people,â€ Archer said, more forcibly than intended. â€œLetâ€™s figure out how to stop this from happening, if indeed that is whatâ€™s happening. Hoshi, I want you to monitor any other changes you see happening and report to me immediately if you see anything- no matter how insignificant. Trip, Tâ€™Pol, I want the two of you working on a way to get them back to where and when they belong. Iâ€™d like to keep contact with our guests to a minimum, but seeing how they might be able to help us, and we have no idea how their ship works, I donâ€™t see that being possible. But be careful of what you say, andâ€¦ And just be careful. Understood?â€

â€œI concur, sir,â€ nodded Tâ€™Pol. "And since so far the changes have only occured on Earth, I don't suggest we contact them quite yet. As far as we know, this ship, this crew, may no longer exist in their universe."

"Then why are we still here?" asked Travis.

"Whe are at ground zero of this entropic event," replied T'Pol. "Entropy begins at the furthest regions and works towards the point of origin. It's the disorder of the universe that causes such events to work backwards, so to speak."

Archer agreed. "So I stress again, be careful what you do and say around our guests. We don't need to speed this process up any more." He turned and inclined his head toward his chief engineer with the look of a concerned father. â€œTrip?â€

Trip thinned his lips and nodded remorsefully. His chance to see the inside of the most remarkable ship in the universe had just been snatched away. â€œAye, capâ€™n.â€


	5. Temporarily Suspended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This is not a chapter**

  
Author's notes: **This is not a chapter**  


* * *

I find it oddly ironic how I find myself writing this, considering the title of this story. And what this is, is an apology. During continuous beta reading of this story (which is complete, because I wonâ€™t post a story that is not), I have discovered an enormous, almost slap in your face mistake in the plot line. In order to fix this, I will have to go back and re-do portions of the first two parts- as well as re-edit the rest of the story. 

I apologize to those reading this story. Because what this means is, not only will I have to re-do the parts done and beta the rest- again, it will be some time before the finished story will be posted. Till then (that being when editing is complete), I will leave the story up as is.

Sorry for the inconvenience, if it is one at all.

Thank you,  
SpaceCowboy.


End file.
